


the courage of stars

by hoetaru



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, at least not as much as the potential romance, but listen, for a reason, i wrote this because i feel like no one appreciates their friendship, i'm tagging this as, yurio is only 15 leave him alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoetaru/pseuds/hoetaru
Summary: "Only true stars can shine like you have tonight, Yuri Plisetsky."





	

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this written for a week now but my laziness has prevented me from editing it, so here it is now! i wrote this to celebrate yurio's win bc i feel like he didn't get as much attention as he deserved after the medal ceremony, so here's this. the title is from ["saturn" by sleeping at last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s) (which i personally think is more of a victuuri song, but idk it went well with the story imo). okay i hope u enjoy!!

It takes Yuri a while to really comprehend that he won the Grand Prix Finals. The celebration is so surreal, even though this was what they had all hoped for. Dreams are often appreciated more once they become a reality, it seems.

He doesn’t even realize that someone is standing right in front of him until he blinks again. “Wh-What the fuck?!” He says this almost instinctively, taking a step back as he does so. Once he puts some space between him and the intruder — of his personal space, that is — he looks up to identify them. When he sees that it’s Otabek, he exhales, relieved that it isn’t paparazzi or some crazy fangirl. “Oh, it’s you. Thank god.”

Otabek cocks his head to the side, his expression flat. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Yuri is a little taken aback by this invitation to leave the rinkside, but he’ll admit that he’s also a little curious. The last time Otabek told Yuri to come with him, he was brought to some balcony and offered a friendship. He would be lying if he said he didn’t wanna know what came next.

So, Yuri nods, but before he even thinks to leave, he turns and cups his hands around his mouth. “Oi, Yakov, I’ll be back!” Under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn’t bother telling Yakov anything, but everything is riskier when you’re the Grand Prix Finals champion, so he makes the conscious decision to let Yakov know that he’ll be gone for a bit, at the very least.

Yakov is surrounded by a bunch of cameras and paparazzi, but Yuri can still hear him when he says, “Alright, but you must be back in 20 minutes! We have dinner reservations that cannot be cancelled on such short notice, Yurachka!” His voice is stern as always, but Yuri just rolls his eyes.

He turns back to Otabek and gives him a thumbs up.

Otabek starts walking, and Yuri follows shortly behind him, staring at his feet. He doesn’t know why they’re not walking beside each other or talking, but he likes the silence too; it gives him time to really think about the possible outcomes of this escapade and what he expects to come from it. The fact that Otabek is still shrouded in mystery makes a conclusion that much harder to come to.

Then, almost as quickly as he started, Otabek stops walking, causing Yuri to bump into him. He doesn’t turn around, and Yuri wants to ask him what the fuck that was for, but he doesn’t. He just waits, and Otabek delivers. “Close your eyes, Yuri.”

Yuri feels his body stiffen, the hairs on his neck raising tentatively. “Why?” It isn’t as if he’s scared or anything, but his mind is just always racing, full of suspicion and skepticism; to trust someone is to make yourself vulnerable, and that’s something he will never forget, even in the presence of someone he calls a friend.

“Just do it.” Otabek spins around on his heel to face Yuri, his expression deadpan, but still somehow able to convey slight confusion. “I’m not going to do anything to you. The fact that you’re concerned for your safety makes _me_ a tad concerned for _you_.”

“We literally just met two days ago. How do you expect me to trust you at all?” Yuri shoves his hands in his pockets, incredulity drawn on his face.

“Technically, we met five years ago, at Yakov’s training camp, but that’s not the point. Just trust me and close your eyes.” Otabek’s voice is low, soothing almost, so much so that Yuri is practically lulled into doing what he says.

He closes his eyes, but once he hears a rustling noise, he can’t help but open one of his eyes, just to see. It’s not his fault that he’s paranoid and also kind of curious.

“Yuri, I can see you opening your eyes. I’m standing right in front of you, you know.” Otabek says, matter-of-fact as always.

“S-So what? This is stupid!” Yuri opens his eyes completely and crosses his arms, positively annoyed. “Just give me whatever you’re gonna give me already!”

Otabek laughs tersely. “How can you be so sure that I’m going to give you something?”

“Otabek!” Yuri isn’t in the mood for bickering, partly because he has zero patience, but mostly because he wants to know what Otabek got for him. It’s a passive curiosity, but he can’t seem to think of anything that _Otabek_ would go into the store and purchase.

He reveals a small Moleskine notebook, and Yuri swears he sees him smile — it’s a small, fleeting smile, perhaps even less than that, but it’s still a smile. “For you.”

Yuri glances down at the notebook in Otabek’s hand. It’s a plain, black notebook, and he briefly wonders what could be inside. He takes it from him and turns it over in his hand. “What is this?”

“A notebook.” Otabek looks to the ceiling, and Yuri rolls his eyes. “Open it.”

With a furrowed brow, Yuri slides the elastic strap off of the notebook and opens it. On the very first page, almost perfectly centered, ‘FOR YURI’ is written in cursive. His brow gets decisively more furrowed as he flips to the next page, and the next, and the next, and all he’s greeted with is more poetry; poetry of varying lengths and styles, some are even accompanied by small sketches and doodles, a few with teardrops and circular coffee stains. He keeps flipping through the pages until he reaches the end, and on the last page is a remarkably drawn portrait of… _him_.

He’s understandably confused, and starts to ask Otabek what the fuck this is, but he is stopped by the feeling of something being pressed against his cheek. Otabek quickly retracts his hand, and Yuri starts to panic a little. _What the fuck was that?? What the fuck did he just put on my fucking face??_ is all he can think in the moment. He is about to claw whatever Otabek just stuck on his face right the fuck off, but he doesn’t have the chance to.

“I knew you could do it, soldier eyes.” Otabek smiles with his eyes, subtly, if that’s even possible. Yuri averts his gaze, somewhat abashedly. “I spent a week trying to think of a good way to congratulate you, if not for this, then for everything else you’ve accomplished thus far. We may not have been friends before, but we’re friends now, and I want you to know how proud I am to have once trained alongside you,” he gets down on one knee, continuing, “Only true stars can shine like you have tonight, Yuri Plisetsky.” He then leans forward to kiss the gold medal hanging around Yuri’s neck.

And for the first time in a while, Yuri is speechless. His eyes are starting to water and he doesn’t even know _why_ for god’s sake. He swears he’s not emotional but tears are streaming down his face and he can’t seem to stop them no matter what he does. He starts to wipe away the tears, but they’re still not stopping, and he can feel the pressure on his fingers as he tightly clutches the notebook in his hand.

Otabek looks shocked, or at least he does through Yuri’s tears. “Yuri?”

Yuri scoffs, followed by an emphatic sniffle. “Fucking idiot. You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

“What?”

“You wrote a whole book of poetry and drew a picture of me and prepared a fucking speech! You didn’t have to do any of that.” Yuri is now more puzzled than sad, but any emotions other than happiness and sadness usually come off as anger, so he probably ends up sounding more annoyed than intended.

Otabek chuckles breathily before leaning up and placing a hand on Yuri’s cheek, running his thumb across it with an earnest expression on his face.

Yuri stares in horror. He doesn’t realize quite how horrified he is until he slaps Otabek’s hand away. He kind of regrets reacting so harshly, but he wasn’t expecting it, so what the hell was he supposed to do?

Without a word, Otabek stands, the sincerity leaving his face, only to be replaced with apathy and faint boredom. As he starts to walk away he says, “Remember that you are a star, Yuri, but know that you have the courage and strength to be the moon one day.”

Once again, Yuri is speechless, but he quickly comes to his senses before Otabek can disappear. “H-Hey, what did you put on my face?!” He reaches up to touch his cheek, but all he can feel is a polished texture that’s somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough to name.

Otabek glances over his shoulder. “A reminder. Don’t forget to read the poetry.”

Then, he’s gone.

Yuri looks down at the notebook. He stuffs it in his pocket, and decides to head back to the rink after a few minutes of contemplation; Yakov is probably wondering where he is anyway.

When he gets back to the rink, Yakov looks like he hadn’t even been bothered by Yuri’s absence. He does acknowledge his arrival, however. “Yurachka, it’s a good thing you’re back! We’re going to be late if we don’t leave n-” His eyes widen and he pauses. Yuri raises an eyebrow. “What’s that on your face? Quick, go to the bathroom and get rid of it! Be back in five minutes!” He pushes Yuri toward the bathroom door before returning to his affairs.

Confused, but suddenly hyper-aware of the feeling on his cheek, Yuri kicks open the bathroom door and steps inside. He walks over to the sinks and looks into one of the mirrors. He scans his face for signs of tampering and notices a gold spot on his cheek. Upon further examination, Yuri realizes that the gold spot is actually a shiny sticker, a star sticker to be specific. He touches it with his hand, pressing it into his cheek and rubbing it curiously. Yakov’s words replay in his head, but now that he’s seen what it is, he doesn’t feel like getting rid of it; not in the slightest.

And as he leaves the bathroom, he smiles fondly, palming the notebook in his pocket as he recalls Otabek’s words.

He can’t wait to read the poems.


End file.
